


Unbeknownst to Him

by candieddragon



Series: The Pub Between The Worlds [4]
Category: Merlin (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Era, Gen, Past Magical Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candieddragon/pseuds/candieddragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur steps into a tavern he’s never seen before, stationed in the heart of his castle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbeknownst to Him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bloodsongs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodsongs/gifts), [starling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starling/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Darker Delights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/493178) by [bloodsongs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodsongs/pseuds/bloodsongs), [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> I had a lot of fun writing this fic, and this world is absolutely amazing!

Although Arthur has lived in Camelot castle for years, he doesn't actually know where all the doors lead. He has found himself in dusty and musty rooms that have been untouched for years—once he saw skeleton hanging dangerously from torch perched on the wall, in rooms filled with treasure and riches that made even the vaults underneath the castle look poor—to date he hasn't been able to show anyone these particular rooms, because he can't find those doors when he's accompanied by someone, and in rooms where the servants hide their mistakes, like a broken vase or two or three hundred.  
  
He's never able to chalk it up to magic, though it's a damn near thing, because he has always been able to find the rooms again, somehow or another.  
  
But today, he thinks he has finally found a magical door.  
  
A door that leads to a pub full of people he's never seen before in his life.  
  
Arthur takes a tentative step inside the establishment, wondering how dangerous this magical place is. Very dangerous, his mind screams at him, a force of habit he still has from back when his father was King, back when he still thought Merlin was a threat. He forces himself to ignore the doctrine his father pressed on him and judge the pub purely on what he sees before him, and concludes that the place poses little to no danger to him. No one has noticed him, even with the clothes he's wearing and the crown in his head.  
  
Still unsure whether or not to stay, Arthur remains rooted to the spot, scanning the room for anyone familiar at all. His eyes are drawn to a corner, where he notices, for a heart stopping moment, a messy mop of black hair. The man turns slightly, and Arthur releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding; the man isn't Merlin.  
  
Somehow bolstered by this, and by the fact that no one seems to recognize him, let alone pay any attention to him, Arthur strides into the pub. It's been a terrible day, terrible year more like, and he wants to banish his thoughts into copious amounts of alcohol, without worrying what his subjects might think.  
  
He spies an empty table, and quickly claims it before the hulking long haired-blond man can. The man stares at Arthur, and in a reckless act of defiance, lifts his chin and an eyebrow an obvious challenge.  
  
After a few heartbeats—Arthur can feel the malice radiating from the man's skin—the man lets out a boom of hearty laugher before siting down besides Arthur and thumping him on the back.  
  
"I like you!," The man grins easily, "Bartender! A tankard of mead for my new friend!"  
  
Bewildered, Arthur accepts the cold tankard and watches as the man gulps down his own.  
  
"What brings you here my friend?" The man asks, after slamming his drink down in some manner of satisfaction, Arthur thinks.  
  
Arthur mulls over these words and throws caution to the wind, "I don't know. I simply walked through a door in my castle and here I am."  
  
The man nods, as if that's a perfectly logical answer. "I am Thor of Asgard."  
  
"Arthur of Camelot."  
  
Arthur waits, but Thor seems content to drink in silence.  
  
Not knowing how to fill the silence, Arthur takes a careful sip of his own tankard. One sip turns to two, which quickly turns into Arthur gulping down the sweet alcohol. It rolls over his tongue and Arthur can't get enough. At the bottom of his drink, he slams his tankard down to see Thor grinning at him.  
  
"It's the best in the worlds," he says, seeing Arthur's expression of—what Arthur thinks must be—bliss.  
  
"Undoubtedly," Arthur agrees and raises his tankard when Thor waves the bartender over to provide more mead.  
  
Arthur soon finds himself sharing stories about his childhood and such and laughs at Thor's as his tankard gets refilled more than he can count.  
  
"—and that, my friend, was the biggest mistake I've ever made." Thor says, chuckling. "Sif chased me everywhere to avenge her honor and beat me black and blue, and I couldn't lay a finger on her."  
  
Arthur waves his hand haphazardly, laughing harder than he had in ages. "Morgana was like that too. She—" and suddenly Arthur couldn't say more about his half-sister. It seemed like a lifetime ago when she was still his friend and not his mortal enemy. An old life that wasn't his anymore, where Morgana and Gwen and—Arthur forced himself to think his name—Merlin made fun of him, and when the four of them trusted each other.  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
Arthur fingers his tankard and wonders if he should answer Thor's question truthfully. Hesitating, he looks into Thor's earnest expression. _Fuck it_ , he thinks.  
  
"A year ago I made a terrible mistake."  Arthur begins.

He recounts the stories of how he met Merlin, the incompetent sod, and how he and Merlin through their many adventures became almost friends. He tells Thor of how Morgana betrayed their kingdom and began practicing sorcery. Thor listens with a sober expression, looking away only to drink. Arthur talks about his father’s death, his marriage to sweet Guinevere and then, finally with a heavy heart, Merlin’s betrayal, or—now after a long year of reflection—Arthur’s betrayal to Merlin.

Unable to look Thor in the eye, Arthur explains how he discovers his manservant’s magic, how angry and blinded he was when Merlin confesses to it quietly, how he cruelly banished Merlin without allowing him to say goodbye to anyone he held dear, how Merlin accepted it with the smallest nod and walked out of the castle, out of Camelot, a defeated man and how bitterly Arthur has regretted his reaction.

“I don’t know how he’s gotten along, or where he’s gone.” Arthur admits freely, “But, Camelot isn’t the same without him. My queen, my knights, my servants, they all miss him.”

“And you?” Thor speaks at last, his voice slightly raspy from disuse.

“Perhaps,” Arthur says quietly. “I miss him most of all.”

The silence that stretches between them is mournful. Arthur worries his lips with his teeth and thinks that maybe he’s said too much, especially to a stranger in a pub. One who undoubtedly came here for a good time and not a sob story.

“Seek him out.” Thor says, breaking into Arthur’s thoughts.

“He would never want to come back.” Arthur shakes his head, to dispel the bad memories. “Not after the injustice I dealt him.”

“Arthur, listen to me. If your stories are true, then I know without a doubt Merlin will want to return.” Arthur looks at him incredulously, and Thor brusquely continues. “He’s waiting for you, out there somewhere for you to come to your senses. Believe me,” Thor says with a small grimace, “I was once banished by my father, and told, under no conditions would I be allowed to return. In the months following, I did everything in my power to  return. I fought against every circumstance, thrown my way in hopes that my father would see and pity me and allow me back to Asgard. And, you know, I would bet money, that your Merlin is the same.”

Thor drains his tankard, stands, slaps Arthur hard on the back before leaving Arthur, mouth gaping. Arthur watches Thor weave back to the bartender, pay, and exit the pub, and then Arthur turns his thoughts back to Thor’s words. 

Arthur mulls over the words until they make little sense anymore. He stands and makes his way to the bartender, only to find—

“Your friend has paid.” The bartender says curtly. “Make sure you walk alone out the door, and we’ll be waiting until you come back.”

Unbidden, Arthur remembers _He’s waiting for you,_ and makes up his mind. Thanking the bartender, he sweeps out of the pub and steps back into Camelot.

He has a warlock to find.

 


End file.
